Chapter Text
He doesn't even try to be subtle about it.
Most men would place some drinks or snacks on the counter first, then swiftly pluck a few condom boxes from the nearby display shelf and mix them in with the other items.
It's less conspicuous that way.
Not this customer, though. Without preamble, the tall guy snatches five boxes and places them in front of Nami, the jet-black labels contrasting starkly against the off-white countertop.
Hard-boiled indeed.
Keeping her professionally neutral expression, Nami grabs a box and raises it to the barcode reader, but then she notices the printed numbers.
Huh. 52?
Nami's slept with men shorter than this customer and even those were at least 54. Maybe he picked up the wrong size in a hurry?
She glances around to make sure there's no-one else in the store. Well, except for this guy's younger friend who came in with him but made a beeline for the packaged meat products.
"52? You sure?" she whispers to the customer whose golden eyes, sharp contours, and tattooed arms should be gracing the cover of some fashion magazine.
Without missing a beat, he replies "These are for him," and jerks his thumb in the direction of the shorter male who's gawking at the myriad of ready-to-eat stuff with childish glee.
"So he doesn't mess the bed when he comes," the tall customer adds with a straight face.
And Nami can envision it. The smaller guy flat on his stomach on the bed. Limbs in whichever direction. Entire back blanketed by his larger boyfriend. Their sweat-slicked bodies moving in sync with one another. The older male's hips grind onto his partner's pert bottom with increasing pace and force, until the teen lets out a muffled cry against his pillow as he gushes his release. His body continues to be jostled by his boyfriend's frenzied thrusts, causing his belly to spread the gooey cum all over the sheets. Not only would it mean less clean space to lie on afterward, the laundry would also be a total pain in the neck.
"Oh. Well, in that case, I guess this is the right size," Nami comments with a sympathetic nod. Less soiled sheets mean less washing. Plus, stains like that don't quite go away once settled into the threads overnight. Ick.
The customer is shoving the condoms into his hoodie's kangaroo pocket when the other male comes running toward the cashier, sandals clapping the floor at high speed.
"Torao! I wanna buy this, too!" he shouts cheerily, hand holding out a bag of cheese sausages.
Normally, Nami would be openly irritated if a couple of customers belatedly decided to add something to their purchase after she already rung the till, but this guy... This bubbly fellow here has the most adorable smile that Nami's ever seen. His toothy grin reaches all the way to his eyes, shining happiness brighter than rainbows and butterflies, and Nami has no wonder how he managed to hook up such a stoic man, who is currently gazing down at the beaming munchkin with the corners of his own lips curled up.
"Of course, Luffy-ya," he says, hands digging his jean pocket for a banknote while his eyes are still soaking up his boyfriend's lively radiance.
With a discreet smile at the two's affection, Nami scans the sausages and reaches for a plastic bag but is stopped by Luffy's outburst of "NO! No need for a bag! Torao likes polar bears and he said scientists are spotting more of them eating plastic and I don't want Torao to be sad if more polar bears roll over and die because of plastic so no bag please!" he explains in one breath.
The tattooed guy makes an embarrassed choking sound. He grabs their purchase from Nami, grabs his boyfriend with his other hand, then tows him toward the exit, all the while mumbling Luffy-ya you don't have to go on telling everyone about that.
Nami can't help chuckling a bit when the other rambles But Torao if we tell her then she can tell a bunch of other customers so everyone will think of the cute polar bears and say no to a lot more bags wouldn't that be great? and so on, and so on.